


We're all going to Hell anyway

by MediocreHuman



Category: Constantine (TV)
Genre: He doesn't want to hurt anyone, John loves Chas, Self-Destruction, Self-Hatred, Suicide Attempt, he doesn't see any other option
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-06-27 06:06:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15679518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MediocreHuman/pseuds/MediocreHuman
Summary: Constantine has been dragging those around him to hell since he was a boy. Long before Astra, he was already ruining his own life and the lives of anyone who got to close.He just wanted to protect those he had left.They wouldn't let him





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have yet to decide if I want to add more. I know the ending is a bit abrupt, hence why I might add another chapter or two

It didn’t hurt. It shouldn't. It couldn’t. Then why did it? All that was being said was the truth. He knew he would die alone. He wanted it,  _ right _ ? It was better than the alternative, better than dragging some poor sod down with him. 

Knowing him he’d be just lucky enough for it to be Chas that he takes down in his final moments. Karma. It’s too bad that Chas will likely be the collateral. Add it to his ever-growing list of sins. His soul was already blackened. Shredded to pieces. At this point, it probably looked like a rabid dogs chew toy between all his trips to hell and the soul-stealing spells. 

Bloody hell, those hurt. Still, he’d suffer through it for an eternity if it meant Chas could just  _ live _ . 

If- when he died alone...he would die laughing, and smirking, and probably making shitty one-liners because most days that was the only thing keeping him from completely falling apart. The thought scared him more than he let on. 

It didn’t matter. That’s why he ran. Ran away as fast as he could as far away from everything he knew and loved as he could. He’d burn and Chas would live and everything would be right in the world. 

It was worth it. It had to be. He didn’t miss it. The mother-henning and the angry yelling when John had a complete disregard for his own life. He didn’t regret pushing away the only friend that had stuck with him through thick and thin. He didn’t feel bad about the pain in his friends' eyes and later the fury as John made himself more and more unbearable. 

Until he pushed him away. Until he was completely alone because Lucifer knows he deserves it. He deserves this fate. That’s why he goes to the bar. He drowns his sorrow. 

Writes a note, stuffs it into his pocket and throws himself into a fight with some homophobic assholes. Gets the shit kicked out of him. He escapes. Barely. Looks in the general direction of Chas’s home and walks in the other direction. It hurts. He walks. The world goes black. 

He wakes to the sterile smell of a hospital room, and the feeling of rough hospital standard blankets, and the sound of shouting…? He forces his eyes open despite the  _ waves and waves of pain thrumming through his head _ and the first thing he sees is his best mate Chas. 

Chas, who is yelling and waving what looks to be a piece of paper around. Their other mate Zed stood in the corner glaring at him. Didn’t she run off with her boyfriend? He honestly couldn’t remember.

“Y-you came back?” He muttered groggily before mentally berating himself. It had been a childish question and newsflash, he wasn’t a child anymore. In fact, one of his very first spells had made sure of that. Wasn’t locking away one's childhood innocence supposed to prevent feelings like this? That terrible mix of hope and dread. 

He remembered the feeling well, that stupid spark of light that refused to go out even when rationally, one knew they would just be used and left behind once again.

Between his father and his sister, and his general life, you’d think he’d have learned how to smother that bloody light by now. He roughly cleared his throat and re-phrased the question. “I mean, What are you two doing here? I know I look like a sorry mess but trust me, I barely feel a thing. Don’t the two of you have better things to do than look after sorry ol’ me?” Both questions had been directed at Zed but his gaze inevitably returned to Chas. From the corner of his eye, he saw her face soften. 

“Of course we came back, John. We’re your friends.”

“You shouldn’t be.” he smiles his joyless, self-deprecating smile. “Get back into your truck or cab or whatever the two of you drive. And drive away. As Far and as fast as possible. Get away from Ol’ John Constantine before he drags your soul to hell alongside him.” Chas and Zed opened their mouths to protest. “And Astra’s” Mouths closed. It was a low blow, but a necessary one. 

A hand reached for him. He wouldn’t say he flinched exactly, no, John Constantine, master of the Dark Arts did not flinch. He had done enough of that as a child. Instead,t was more of bracing himself for the anger, the yelling, the swinging fists and the sharp slap that has become the norm these days. It never came. He hesitantly looked up to see sad eyes, pitying eyes. It hurt more than any blow ever could. 

“John-” Zed’s soft voice began.

“We aren’t leaving you” Chaz’s voice was sharp with worry and irritation and Dear God was it familiar and he missed it. 

“Listen, love, I know you like feeling like you’re actually doing something and all but sod off. Find another poor bastard to pity and get the fuck out of my life.” He really should have become an actor. The laughing Magician in showbiz. The thought itself was laughable and it was enough for him to force a pathetic attempt at his usual cocky smirk. “You too Zed. I have no use for those who are too busy making bloody heart eyes about some ignorant sod while I fight I damn demon.” For a brief second fury flashed in their eyes and he thought he had won. Pushed them away completely. Zed jumped up and a second later she was in his face, her fist balled up in his hospital shirt. 

“IS THIS FUNNY TO YOU? DO YOU REALLY THINK WE’D BE SO- SO- SELFISH? SO COMPLETELY SELFISH THAT WE’D LEAVE YOU TO COMPLETELY SELF DESTRUCT BY YOURSELF?” The tears and anger only added to his resolve.

“Piss off. I’m not some pity case, and for your information, I managed plenty before you all and I can do it again.”

“Do you know what this is?” Chas held out the paper he had been gripping tightly this entire time. John had forgotten it amongst the drama.

“No? Should I? I know I remember writing something down before but it’s all a bit of a blur” Chas’s eyes darkened.

“It’s a suicide note. Your suicide note to be specific” 

“Oh” What did one say in response to that? Zed had gone back to her chair in the corner, her desire for physical violence seemingly drained. Instead, she glared at the floor as if it was to blame for all the pain her friends were in at that moment. “Well that’s awkward”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It would have been longer but I felt like I maybe have been going into a more chapter 3 type area. Maybe I'll combine this and the next chapter, maybe not. I'll see how it turns out

“Awkward?” The note is shoved into his face with an almost surprising amount of ferocity. “Do you have any idea how terrified I was when I got the call? How angry I was?” A wry smile made its way onto John’s face

“I dunno mate, you still seem pretty angry” his attempt at humor was met with a withering glare from both parties.

“This isn’t funny John.” 

“Ah Zed, finally decided to join the conversation?” If looks could kill he’d be a dead man right now. Not that he was opposed to that. Death by a pretty (but admittedly terrifying) woman wasn’t a bad way to go, especially since the alternative was beer guzzling rednecks. Now THAT was an ugly sight. 

“Now, I’m sure you two’d love to continue this conversation some more but I don’t think I can take much more of this, at least not while sober. I say we ditch this joint and get hammered back home. Sound good?” John was already in the process of sitting up and carelessly pulling the IV and other such medical devices from his person. “Now where are my bloody pants…Chas?” The man in question was standing firm besides John, looming over him with his arms crossed and a stormy expression on his face.

“You’re not leaving.” Startled blue eyes met Chas’ before the blink of emotion was gone, hidden once again behind a playful, albeit confused mask. 

“What are you talking about mate? You know I’m fine now, fit as a fiddle!” To prove his point John jumped to his feet, which was apparently not a good move judging by the fire igniting in his ankle and the pain in his poor ribs as his injuries decided to make themselves known. “Bloody Hell, I think those Doctors were a little stingy on the painkillers, but oh well. I bet I could solve that right quick once we’re back home.” He sent a pleading look to his psychic.  “C’mon Zed, tell Chas to stop being so stubborn, I’m fine.” She met his gaze evenly, albeit coldly.

“Multiple Broken Ribs. Concussion. Fractured wrist. Five broken fingers. A dislocated shoulder. Tearing in your right knee,  Internal Bleeding. For God’s sake John, you’re a walking bruise. If you weren’t on so many painkillers, I doubt you’d be able to sit up, let alone stand up.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Is that a challenge?” Another glare. He seemed to be getting a lot of those.

“John Constantine.” She stood up and took her place beside Chas. It took all his willpower not to look away and he suddenly had no idea what to do with his hands. He settled for crossing them before quickly dropping them to his sides. Just because Chas and Zed argued he acted like a sulky teen (or child), didn’t mean he had to look the part. 

“You will sit your ass down right now or I swear I will make sure you never touch another cigarette in your life,” John smirked, looking far more amused then cowed. 

“Oh really?” He shot an amused look at Chas, which quickly turned to a scowl when Chas seemed to agree with Zed. “Oh c’mon Chas, you don’t really want to see me withdraw again? It wasn’t exactly a fun time last time.”

“You’re about to lose your alcohol too”  He scowled and made a rather unmanly whine of frustration that he quickly covered with a cough. 

“Fine, fine.” He sat down on the very edge of the bed, ignoring his protesting body. “Happy? I did what you want. You can go now.” 

“Lay down John.” When he didn’t move Chas and Zed shared a mutual look of exasperation.   
“Hey, Chas?”

“Yes, Zed?” From the corner of their eyes, they could see John looking up at them suspiciously.

“What did that nurse say about restraints…?” The panic in John’s eyes was both comedic and painful. They knew about his past with mental institutions. While it was funny seeing the great master of the dark arts cowed by his best mates threats, it was sad because the threat was a low blow and they knew it. Constantine may pretend nothing could get past his defenses but young John never had that luxury. It was through facing blow after blow and being kicked down to the dirt over and over again that his defenses grew stronger, the briars thicker and stronger and far more impenetrable. It hadn’t stopped Zed and Chas from making it through but it certainly hadn’t been an easy journey. 

A flash of hurt crossed John’s face before it was hidden behind a childish sulk. Zed shook her head in both irritation and guilt. 

“Would it help if we said it was for your own good?”  John’s glare was all she really needed to get the message but his resounding “fuck off” certainly made sure no doubts could be cast about how angry he really was. Before the silence could get awkward, Chas stepped in, his gruff voice suspiciously devoid of emotion.

“You know how this works John. You tried to kill yourself. That means the hospital has the right to a 72-hour hold, where they will decide whether or not you’re a danger to yourself-” 

“You know what I do for a living right?” he snapped. “I put my life in danger daily to protect others. How is this different from any of the other times I’ve raced into danger?”

“I’d avoid mentioning that to the psychiatrist John. Trust me, I don’t want this any more than you do” He held up a hand as John went to interrupt. “You’re my friend John. I don’t like seeing you this way. Neither of us does. So why don’t you let us help you? Stop pushing us away and let us be there for you” 

“Sod off…if you aren’t going to help me get out what the bloody use in you being here?” Chas only sighed.

“C’mon Zed, let’s give John some time to think about things. We can always come back tomorrow.”

“Or not.”

“As I said, we can come back tomorrow to check in.” With a final concerned look, Chas managed to herd Zed out of the room leaving it in silence


End file.
